


The fire died but sparks are still flying

by TerresDeBrume



Series: More Fire than Ice [3]
Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alliance Rune, Canon Character of Color, Canon Gay Character, Canon Gay Relationship, Far Future, Future Fic, M/M, Magic-Users, Nephilim, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 21:11:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2243643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerresDeBrume/pseuds/TerresDeBrume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been a month since Alec (re)entered active Shadowhunter life, and he’s finally starting to have somewhat of a social one as well —sure, it’s odd that he hangs out with warlocks and witches so much, but what can he say? He does have things to discuss with Magnus anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The fire died but sparks are still flying

_Well, think about it, at least. I'm sure it'd be great._

 

Luke's words keep swirling around Alec's mind even as he helps Sansa carry blankets and pillows out of an empty building and onto the plains of Brocelind. His first impression of Magitown wasn't that wrong –it _is_ an empty town, and most of the towers only serve as decorations. Beautiful ones, it's true: when the sun streams through the glass walls, the light takes on a green color Alec can't help but link to the Northern Lights...still, it does make for a rather unnerving atmosphere, and Alec breathes more easily once they leave the Warlocks' town.

The party is going strong already, several warlocks and witches seated on logs and armchairs around the bonfire, some playing guitar while others make small talk. It's a very different sight from the training rooms, where they stand at attention with disturbing unity.

Here they actually look alive, and it makes Alec smile.

 

 

“Finally,” Sansa says, white teeth gleaming in the buttercup yellow of her face, “I was begining to think Magnus misjudged your ability to have fun with us.”

“I didn't know inviting me was his idea,” Alec says, trying to keep his voice neutral.

 

 

He can't help but scan the small crowd though, looking for a familiar mop of dyed hair and too many belt buckles until he remembers that's not what Magnus looks like anymore.

None of the Warlocks he's seen looks young, actually. Sansa said looking older helped them be taken more seriously, that they used spells. As far as explanations go it isn't a bad one, but Alec still wonders why _all_ of them would do it.

Especially after spending centuries in teenaged bodies. You'd think if they truly wanted older faces, they would get them sooner.

 

 

“Oh sweetie,” Sansa says with a teasing smile, “He _insisted_. I think he may have a bit of a crush on you.”

 

 

Alec's cheeks heat up at Sansa's words, her teasing made more intimate by her use of English –not American or British, but the English Alec learned to speak as he grew up.

It keeps surprising him, really, that so many Warlocks of the House would make a point not to use Alicanti –well, Neo-Alicanti- with him--although maybe they're simply nostalgic. They don't use the local language among themselves either, and Sansa was born in London two short years after Alec. It makes sense she'd use her native tongue when she can.

 

 

“Well,” she says after a pause, pushing Alec's shoulder with her own, “Aren't you going to tell me how you find him?”

“Did he ask you to fish for informations?” Alec asks, rising his eyebrows at her and readjusting his grip on the blankets he's carrying.

 

 

Knowing Magnus the way he does, he wouldn't be all that surprised if Sansa were to confirm his doubt.

 

 

“No,” she says, grinning, “but he _was_ very worried when Luke Fairchild invited you to the Solstice Feast.”

“I've—I've seen Feasts before,” Alec half-stutters, surprised by the allusion, “But I've never been to a Warlocks' party.”

“Wixen. That's the term we use it's...we like it better when it's more gender-neutral.” Sansa shrugs. “At least, our community does, but honestly I'm not certain there are other wixen communities in the world.”

 

 

Alec looks down at the golden collar gleaming around her neck, the same as Magnus' and all the other warlocks and wi—wixes? He'll have to ask about that at some point, but he's not sure now is the moment. He doesn't want to ruin the mood.

Besides, if there is another wixen community out there, Alec doubts it looks like this one, and that's not a topic he wants to bring up just now either.

 

 

“Anyway, you can just dump the blankets here,” she says, visibly pulling herself back into a cheer –the thin orange snakes making up her hair hiss in excitement. “Then find yourself a seat and enjoy the night.”

 

 

Alec nods, smiles, and grabs a green blanket, wrapping it over his shoulders and thick jacket before he sits down in the grass, close enough to the fire that the air is thick with smoke and the sound of cracking wood. The smell still bothers him –has bothered him ever since Max's funerals- but nowadays even that is not enough to make him forget how much he craves heat.

Staring into the flames, Alec sits in silence and tries to empty his mind of anything that isn't music...much like the rest of the time though, he isn't very successful.

 

 

_I mean, I get you're demi but we're friends, right? It could work._

“I don't even know what demi _is_ ,” Alec mutters to himself.

 

 

Rubbing the palms of his hands against his eyes doesn't help in the slightest, aside maybe from making him feel like he's going to cry if he doesn't find something else to do. Alec swears under his breath, burying his fingers in the jean of his pants and willing himself to stop –to calm down somehow.

_You need to get a grip Alec. You're not going to help anyone if you're losing your mind._

 

Then again, it's hard not to feel like he is losing his mind when even simple, stable things like sexuality completely shifted in the past four centuries.

 

 

“What are those people going to invent next? New genders?”

“Not to scare you, but I think they already did.”

 

 

Alec looks up to his left and finds Magnus, looking at him with a sympathetic –if cautious- smile. He looks even taller than he already is from that angle, his shoulders broader...and his ring looks bigger, too. Alec brings his knees to his chest and scoots closer to the fire, setting his eyes on the flames again.

 

 

“Do you mind if I sit here?”

 

 

Alec shakes his head, and Magnus sits down, close enough that Alec can almost feel the heat radiating off him –Magnus has always been a walking furnace, but in truth it's highly possible Alec is just too acutely tuned into his presence.

 

 

“The Clave only recognizes 'Male' and 'Female', of course,” Magnus continues as if he'd never paused. “At least now transgender folks can get reassigned if they want to, which is honestly better than I would have expected from your government.”

“It's not my government,” Alec points out, more annoyed than he intended to. “The Clave I grew up with had a lot of flaws but at least it wouldn't have called back all its members just because Mundanes _might_ be looking for traces of us.”

 

 

It's Aline who told him, but she got the information from Isabelle –Alec still isn't completely used to his sister sitting as a Vampire representative on the Council. It seems the Mundane hospital he was kept in was a military one, and after six months of studying several thawed-out Downworlders –and a Nephilim- they gathered enough data to track them. To, maybe, stumble upon the Shadow World.

Unsurprisingly, no one is pleased by the pespective.

 

 

“I guess not,” Magnus admits –Alec can feel him shrug next to him- “Although I guess after Jonathan Morgenstern attacked them, they might have been more enclined to do so.”

“Only if they wanted Jace to make their life Hell,” Alec snorts. “He was always good at that game.”

“Yes, I remember that,” Magnus chuckles. “He _did_ look for you until the end, though. He was an asshole, but a faithful one.”

 

 

Alec has to smile at that, relieved that he even can.

When he joined the Alliance Corps a month ago, every mention of Jace, Clary or anyone they knew made him want to scream. It's good to discover he can think of Jace's stubbornness and feel fondness rather than despair.

Silence falls over the two of them, and for a moment it almost feels like they're friends again. Like they can, maybe, feel good together again. Given the way they parted, Alec should probably not wish for that, but what can he say?

He's known Magnus would get him in trouble from the moment he said “call me” and magicked his number in the back of Alec's pocket.

 

 

“I was worried you'd go to the Nephilims' Feast tonight,” Magnus admits after a long stretch of silence. “That you'd rather stay with your own kind.”

“You know I'm not like that!” Alec protests –too loud, it seems, as a couple of heads turn toward them. He even spots Sansa pausing in her guitar playing to send a worried look his way. “Maybe you guys are different from me but that doesn't mean I'm going to avoid you because of it.”

“I know that,” Magnus says with a serious expression Alec didn't expect. “But I was afraid you'd refuse because of me.” Magnus lowers his eyes when Alec tries to catch his gaze. “I wouldn't have blamed you for it.”

“Is that why you had Sansa invite me?”

“Well,” Magnus shrugs, “she's the only one you really talked to for the past month...aside from the Morgenstern girl and that Fairchild guy, that is.” He pauses. “You two look close.”

“Well I have to have _some_ friends who aren't dead, don't you think?”

 

 

Magnus chuckles despite Alec's clear sidestep, and wraps an arm around Alec's shoulders, pulling him into a one-armed hug.

It's a new sensation, honestly, being 'just' friends with him. From the very first moments their relationship has been a carnal one. Not that Alec minds, of course –but he wonders what it would be like for them to have a more...platonic relationship. Maybe to talk more.

Although of course, considering just a hug sends shivers running down his spine, Alec can't be certain that's a likely possibility. They always did have a tendency to fall in bed whenever they could, after all.

 

 

“They're confusing though,” Alec confesses, leaning into the hug.

 

 

The sun has almost disappeared behind the horizon, and the Demon Towers shine through the buildings, coloring the city a brighter shade of green. The fireworks are going to sart soon now, and the dancing with it.

Strangely enough, Alec has always been fond of Feasts in Alicante, despite the crowd. Still, he doesn't regret being here: the only Nephilims he knows moderately well are Belle and Luke, and from what he's heard of their family, they probably wouldn't have much time for him. As for Aline and Isabelle, well. Nephilims –Shadowhunters or not- still dislike Vampires too much to mingle with them, and they have other obligations anyway. When your daughter was born from a Faerie Tree, the only place you can spend the Solstice in is the Summer Court, certainly not on Angel's Square.

 

 

“I mean, Belle says monogamy is overrated but then she also says she doesn't want to ever have sex, and then there's Luke saying he's a big romantic but then one day he sits down for lunch and goes 'I don't know if I told you but I really think we should have sex someday'.”

 

 

Alec feels Magnus stiffen beside him, but he stops himself from reassuring him.

It's true that he misses Magnus. He misses quiet evenings in the sofa, reading a book with Magnus' head in his lap, and he misses dinners with his family and going out on walk...and yes, even going with Magnus when he shops for make up –in fact, he would gladly go to a make up shop right now, if it meant Magnus started wearing glitter and eyeliner again- but it's Magnus who left.

If he was going to be jealous, then he should have stayed.

 

 

“According to him it could work even though I'm 'demi', but demi what....” Alec shrugs and makes a noise to indicate he doesn't know.

“I think he meant demisexual,” Magnus says, straightening up. “People who are only sexually attracted to others if they feel emotionally connected to them.”

“I guess it could fit,” Alec says after thinking about it for a moment. “At least as far as I can tell for now.”

“You don't have to decide tonight,” Magnus chuckles, but without relaxing. “And in the interest of full disclosure, I have to admit I'm...relieved, that you don't seem to feel like taking Fairchild up on his offer.”

“As if you'd be in any position to protest,” Alec tells him, reigning his sudden anger in.

“I know, I'm just...I've had hundreds of years to think about what went wrong between us and I realized—I should have talked more. I should—I don't think I'd have left if I'd talked to you.”

 

 

The first firework of the night colors the sky green, and Alec seizes the excuse to look away.

He may have grown braver in the past few –cosncious- years of his life, but there are still conversations he's not sure he can have while looking people in the eye.

Around them, most of the seventy War—wixes of the House have settled down in one large pile where languages shift and change with every sentence. Farther on the left, the guitarists play a slow, soulful melody while Sansa sings _My Featherbed_ , her favorite song...it all seems like they're relaxed and a tad careless, and Alec sort of wishes it really were.

Maybe then he'd be able to join in.

 

 

“We don't have to talk about this just now,” he tells Magnus. Not that he thinks he'll ever be comfortable for this conversation, but still.

“Maybe not,” Magnus admits, “But I've been thinking about this for the past four-hundred years and I just—I kind of—”

 

 

The rest of Magnus' sentence dies in his throat and he presses a hand to his forehead, eyes tightly shut, swearing between his teeth in a mix of Latin and Greek...he stays like this for several seconds, Alec just sitting here and watching him like an idiot because, really, what can he do?

He doesn't realize what's happening until Magnus' breathing turns harsh, his shoulders tense. That's when Alec reaches for his shoulder and shakes him –slightly- until Magnus manages to look at him.

 

 

“Look, if it's going to give you a panic attack....”

“Sorry,” Magnus says, resting his head over his knees. “I haven't had one of those in a while.” He pauses to take a deep breath before he pushes out: “Look, I was scared. I knew I wouldn't be able to cope with your death from the start. I knew it was going to hurt because that's what happens every time I get close to a mortal...that's why Ragnor used to scold me when I made mortal friends.”

 

 

Magnus does something halfway between a snort and a sob, and this time it's Alec who gets him into a one-armed hug, purposefully ignoring the two wixes who tried to sit next to the fire and left when they saw them. He thinks they might have glared at him, but he's not sure, and he doesn't care anyway. He's too busy bracing himself for what's to come—he knows Magnus well enough to know this isn't the whole story, after all.

 

 

“You would have liked him, by the way. Well, not tonight, of course –he hated fireworks. But he was a bit like you, in some ways.”

 

 

Alec, who rarely heard Magnus talk about Ragnor Fell, nods, and doesn't protest when Magnus rests his head on his shoulder. Up above, the fireworks' final is starting, a bright bouquet of green, blue and red flowers coloring the sky into a short-lived painting. Alec hopes the colors really do say something about his future, the way his grandmother used to say.

 

 

“The thing is,” Magnus continues, sobering down, “I knew losing you was going to hurt, and every day I spent with you made that clearer and clearer...Remember when you thought about making me mortal?”

“I'll never forget that,” Alec promises –it's a promise to himself as much as it is one to Magnus. After all if he forgets, what's going to prevent him from doing it again?

“I forgave you,” Magnus whispers. “Almost right away. I didn't want to admit it, and I wanted to make sure you realized it was wrong...but I forgave you so fast it scared me. So I left.”

“But we talked about that,” Alec replies, keeping his voice low as well. No one here knows they knew each other before they were Allied, and for now they don't need to.

“We did. For a while...For a while I thought i'd be fine. That's I'd deal day to day and, when the time came, that I'd heal. Slower than usual, maybe, but I thought I'd recover from your death...But when I woke up the day after you brought the ring, I knew I'd been wrong. I knew I would never be able to recover from losing you and—and then I left for three months, and when I came back thinking being away from you was worse than wondering if we were sharing our last moments, you were gone.”

“I didn't—”

 

 

Alec isn't sure how to finish his sentence.

_I didn't want to leave. I didn't know, didn't realize, what it was like for you –that you were just as afraid to lose me as I was you'd forget me after I died._

He's spared from finding an acceptable way to end it though, because Magnus cuts him off:

 

 

“It was Jonathan who released the Ice Demons, you know? When he travelled to Edom. Can you imagine? Four hundred years and we're still facing the consequences of what he did.”

“Well,” Alec starts, pushing past the knot in his throat and trying to sound neutral at the same time, “At least we get to try and sort some issues, don't we?”

“We do,” Magnus concedes, his hair tickling Alec's throat when he nods. “Just about the only part of this story that doesn't suck. At least for me.”

“Me too,” Alec admits after a pause, watching the last of the fireworks fade from the sky. “I wish the others were alive but I'm still glad we get to—to talk.”

“Although to be honest,” Magnus chuckles, “It's possible the fact that we're in public helps with the whole 'talking' part.”

 

 

**{ooo}**

 

 

 

“Now, that is just not fair!”

 

 

Alec puts a hand on his mouth to hide his grin...judging from Magnus face it doesn't seem to help but, well. Can't be blamed for trying.

 

 

“I'm sorry,” he chuckles at last, “I know I shouldn't laugh but—hey! Now who's the one playing dirty?”

 

 

Magnus left his place near the kitchen door to stand closer –close enough that Alec can feel the heat of him through their clothes.

That, and the bulge in his pants, of course.

 

 

“Oh shut up”, Magnus says, low and sultry, “You started it.”

“I can't help it if I like it when you're possessive,” Alec points out. “It's not like you actually thought I'd ever have anything but a friendly relationship with Jiao-long. He's straighter than a ruler and I've been down that path, remember?”

“Mmh. Some people are curious,” Magnus says, and kisses Alec on the mouth.

“You're impossible,” Alec laughs when they pull appart, but his hands are fumbling with Magnus' zipper and his blood is heating with want already.

 

 

Magnus hums in approval when his jeans slide down to the floor, then jumps on the kitchen counter with a seductive grin, as if daring Alec to play the game. Alec can't see Magnus' face as he pulls his underwear down, but the warlock's gasp when Alec takes his penis in his mouth is more than satisfying enough.

 

 

**{ooo}**

 

 

“Shut up,” Alec says, but he's chuckling even as he tries to frown.

 

 

Although after seven years of near-constant relationship, maybe he shouldn't be so surprised talking with Magnus feels as easy and comfortable as slipping into his favorite sweater, even in the middle of a serious situation.

 

 

“When I saw you step forward last month I was—” Magnus looks down at his hands, a more sober smile budding at the edge of his lips. “I was so shocked I forgot to be happy.”

“Well you looked kind of terrified to me,” Alec says, aiming for a joking town but only managing a slight frown. “Just so you know.”

“That's—yes,” Magnus admits, fingers drifting up to tug at his collar, “that's another reason why I wanted you to come here tonight but...one problem at a time, if you don't mind?”

 

 

Alec, who spent the past month compiling a –much too long- list of all the signs something strange is going on in the House of Alliances, nods. There's only so much emotion he can handle in one night and, as Aline says, he won't solve everything in a year anyway. He might as well try to keep his thoughts and energy sorted out.

 

 

“All this to say,” Magnus continues, his smile turning somewhat bitter, “it kills me. It kills me to know you're going to die someday and I'll be left bleeding out for the rest of my life...I've done four hundred years of that already, and I'm not looking forward to it. And the worst part is—”

 

 

Magnus' hand comes to grip Alec's ankle, but Alec doesn't move –he doesn't think he'd be able to even if he tried. He can barely breathe as it is.

 

 

“The worst part is that if I'd only told you that, then maybe I wouldn't have left, and I wouldn't be wondering if there's even a chance you'll stop hating me someday.”

 

 

This makes Alec frown again, harder than before. He may be particularly cross with Magnus, but not this much, and he shifts to kneel in front of the warlock before he says:

 

 

“It would take more than this to make me hate you. Maybe I don't want to pick things up right where we left them, but if I really hated you I wouldn't be here.”

“Oh God,” Magnus sighs, so deep Alec can feel the wind of it tickling his nose, “I'm so relieved to hear you say this. So, are we—can we try to be friends then? Because I can do friends. I can't promise I'll be a hundred percent happy if you find another boyfriend but—”

“Yes,” Alec says, “We can be friends.”

 

 

The truth is he doesn't think, even for one second, that he'll actually find interest in anyone but Magnus –not after all they've just told each other.

Maybe he'll have sex with someone different, that's possible, even though he kind of want to think back on and look into this whole demisexual thing before he does anything. But honestly, he can't picture himself in a relationship with someone who isn't Magnus.

Not just now, at the very least.

 

 

Still, now is probably the worst possible time to say that, and so Alec gets up instead, spine and knees cracking. He brushes dirt off his pants, and takes a look at the spot where the other guests sat down together, huddled under blankets and improvides pillow forts.

Above their heads, the sky is clear enough to see the stars, and Alec's eyebrows rise high on his forehead when he realizes it's already well past one in the morning...uh. He didn't think he and Magnus had been talking for so long.

He's about to ask Magnus if he wants a drink when Sansa's voice shoots through the air:

 

 

“Does this mean the two of you will stop hogging the fire now? We're kind of freezing here.”

“Don't worry,” Magnus tells her, cheerful face almost natural enough to fool Alec himself, “We're done.”

 

 

Several voices rise in happiness, and the crowd of wixes moves to sit around the fire, uncaring of their usual distinction between partnered and unpartnered wixes –although if Alec is going to be honest, he has to say that particular demarcation vanished the moment they left the House tonight.

Alec follows Magnus to the drinks spot, a large barrel filled with ice and bottles of various alcohols, and doesn't notice Sansa walking up to him until he nearly bumps into her –he blames it on the way her skin and hair blend into the firelight.

 

 

“So,” she says with a conspiring smile while Magnus rummages in the drinks barrel, “Was I right? Does he have a crush on you?”

“I...you could say that,” Alec admits with a nervous smile. “I'm really not the one you should ask.”

“I know,” Sansa retorts, poking her tongue out at him. “But it's okay since what I really want to know is whether or not you're crushing back.”

“We're Alliance Partners,” Alec shrugs, keeping his face as blank as he can manage, “and we make a good team. It's probably too early to tell whether or not things are going further than that.”

“Yeah, right,” Sansa says just as Magnus turns around and says:

“That's why I'm trying to get him drunk.” He walks up to Sansa and Alec, handing them both a plastic goblet full of wine, and grins: “I'm hoping alcohol will help me lure him into bed.”

“You are aware that would be rape,” Sansa points out, “right?”

“Yes.” Magnus nods, then downs the content of his glass, and refills it again. “That's why I'm getting drunk too. This way, it'll just be a bad decision on both our parts.”

“He's joking,” Alec says around his goblet when Sansa keeps looking at Magnus with dubious eyes.

“Not about the part where the both of us are getting drunk,” Magnus replies before taking a large gulp of his drink.

 

 

Sansa looks between the two of them with a raised eyebrow, which Alec pretends not to notice.

Readjusting the sleeves of her oversized hoodie –it's a grey one, decorated in the back with a portrait of Sansa Stark, the fictional character she was named after- Sansa rolls her eyes before she downs her wine –a cheap vintage- and steals the bottle from Magnus' fingers.

Then, with her most regal expression, she looks up at Magnus and says:

 

 

“I'll leave you two lovebirds to your drinking games then. Have fun, sweeties.”

“I'm sure we will!” Magnus calls out after her. Then, turning to Alec: “Drunk you was always a fun sight.”

“Magnus,” Alec sighs fondly, “You've never seen me drunk.”

“Nonsense,” Magnus retorts, taking another mouthful of wine, “I've seen you drunk plenty of time.”

 

 

**{ooo}**

 

 

“You are sooooo completely drunk!”

 

 

Alec rolls his eyes, but doesn't bother arguing further with Magnus, whose words slurr together in a combination of gin, vodka, and some kind of fruit-scented alcohol Alec can't name. The warlock has a tendency to gesticulate when he's drunk, and carrying him bridal style is complicated enough without adding to it.

 

 

“The perils of dating a beanpole,” Alec mutters as he braces his knee against the wall to support Magnus' weight while he searches for his keys.

“I'm not a beanpole!” Magnus protests with a giggle, “I'm a Q-Tip dipped in glitter!”

 

 

Alec snorts, readjusting his grip on Magnus' shoulders with a grunt. He hates being stuck outside his own bedroom –but considering other residents of the San Francisco Institute dyed his room the last time he left it open, he'd rather not take risks.

 

 

“Who came up with this metaphor again?”

“Ragnor did,” Magnus snorts –Alec can feel lipstick stick to his neck where Magnus kisses him, and a cooler spot when the warlock breathes against the spot he just licked. “Who else?”

 

 

Magnus magics the door open just as Alec finds his keys, which he probably did on purpose. Alec still takes care not to bump his head against the doorframe though, pushing the door closed with his foot.

 

 

“Ooooh!” Magnus exclaims when Alec bypasses his desk on his way to the double bed, “You have a picture of us on your desk!”

“Magnus I've been living here for three years and this has been up from the beginning,” Alec sighs, unable to keep the fondness out of his voice. “You _know_ I have a picture of us on my desk.”

“'S still cute,” Magnus slurrs while Alec sets him down on the bed. “It's hot as Hell in there, isn't it?”

“That would be because you turned the heating up again,” Alec sighs, moving to open his window and turn the radiator off. It's the middle of July, after all. “You were trying to get me naked before we went to the party, remember?”

“D'd it work?”

“Am I naked right now?” Alec asks while he pulls Magnus' platform boots off his feet. “Because if yes, I need to start paying more attention when I get out in the morning.”

 

 

Magnus laughs at that, loud and unabashed –Alec should probably hush him out of courtesy for his neighbors, but he doesn't really care about them enough for that. Beside, it's not like Magnus spends his life around here.

 

 

“Well you should get naked,” Magnus says with a yawn. “Heard having a naked hot guy in your bed cures hangover.”

“Maybe we'll try that tomorrow then,” Alec replies, rolling his eyes.

 

 

A part of him still wants to point out it's probably bullshit, but Magnus rarely says anything that makes sense when he's drunk anyway, so Alec learned to play along. Beside, he may have learned to tell joking Magnus appart from serious Magnus with practice, but that talent only works when he's sober.

When he's drunk, Alec is as clueless about sarcasm and humor as he was at seventeen.

 

 

“Yeeeee!”

 

 

Magnus tries –and fails- to form victorious V's with his fingers before he lets his arms fall back on the bed, and pulls his head up to watch Alec take his shoes, jeans and T-Shirts off, going so far as to whistle when Alec is done.

 

 

“Have I mentionned lately that I love your shoulders?”

“I thought you said you loved my abs,” Alec points out as he climbs into bed with Magnus.

“I do,” Magnus says, tugging at Alec's arm until he lies down on top of him and the two of them are chest to chest, “But I like you on the heavier side, too.”

 

 

Alec laughs and kisses Magnus on the lips –he tastes and stinks of alcohol, but he's conscious enough to return the kiss, messy and filthy and, to Alec's everlasting surprise, really pretty hot.

 

 

“You always have to do that when I'm drunk,” Magnus complains when they pull apart, “It's not fair.”

“Would you rather I stopped?”

“No,” Magnus protests, wrapping his arms around Alec, half-asleep already, “but I wish it could lead to actual sex.”

“Tomorrow,” Alec promises with a quick peck on Magnus' lips. “Don't forget to turn the lights off, please.”

 

 

With a click of Magnus' fingers, the room goes dark, filled only with the smells of summer and warm air. Alec sighs, nuzzles at Magnus' neck, and shifts a little to accommodate his erection, knowing there's no chance he'll get to sleep if he doesn't.

 

 

“I could still jerk you off.”

“Go to sleep, Magnus.”

 

 

**{ooo}**

 

 

“I love it when you do that,” Magnus sighs into Alec's neck, rubbing his nose at the junction of neck and jaw. “It's really hot.”

“Don't make it a habit, I won't be breaking doors down just so you can fulfill your kink,” Alec replies, almost on automatic pilot.

 

 

The east wall of Magnus' one-room appartment shines green where the golden light of the Demon Towers hit it, bathing the whole flat in eerie light and reminding Alec of a dream. He makes out a kitchenette on the right side of the door, with something that might be a bar and, further along the wall, the bulky shape of...a desk, maybe. Or a clothing drawer, knowing Magnus.

Looking to the left, Alec finally finds the bed –at least he hopes what he's seeing is actually a canopy, because he's too drunk to see properly, and carrying Magnus around prevents him from using a rune to see better.

 

He's relieved when the large rectangle turns out to be a mattress, and dumps Magnus over the covers without much finesse.

 

 

“Ouch! Is it a punishment for calling you hot?” Magnus asks, toeing his shoes off and scooting away from the edge of the bed.

“No,” Alec says, breathing hard. “Just me still needing to work on my endurance.”

 

 

It's amazing, how six months in a coma can eat away the muscles you gained through a lifetime of training. Alec twists his back until his spine pops back into its proper place, yawns and waves toward Magnus before he goes to exit the room.

He's almost reached the door when Magnus says: “Please stay” and he knows he should leave. He knows it because their situation is complicated and they're not exactly in a state of mind where they'll think of this as entirely platonic –or at least, he won't.

 

But in the end, it doesn't even take him a minute before he sighs, closes the door and walks back to the bed. There, he takes his shoes off, stacking them at the head of the bed before he sheds his jacket –but not his sweater- and climbs up to lie next to Magnus, who turns toward him.

At first, Alec worries Magnus is going to try and pull them into the same position they used to sleep in, but that's not what happens.

 

 

“Thanks,” Magnus says instead, his voice quiet and unusually shy.

 

 

Then his left hand grabs a hold of Alec's sweater sleeve, fingers grasping tightly up until he falls asleep.

It takes several minutes of watching him breathe in and out before Alec finally convinces himself Magnus won't be gone in the morning, and lets himself go to sleep too.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos, comments and reviews make me want to keep writing!  
> You can leave them here or, if you'd prefer to stay anonymous, you can go to [my writing blog](http://terresdebrumestories.tumblr.com/faq) on tumblr :)  
> For more infos on this verse, "Deleted Scenes" and any other related thing, check out [the series' trivia tag](http://terresdebrumestories.tumblr.com/tagged/S%3A-More-Fire-than-Ice) on my tumblr :)
> 
> Thanks for reading! :)


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